


The Only Thing That Looks Good on Me is You

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Find It Fix It Flog It RPF
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Shirtless, Touching, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 20:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18902125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: "I say. Hel-lo Si," he beamed, like a Cheshire cat.Feeling slightly timid, O'Brien retrieved the damp shirt and held it to his torso, covering his bare-chestedness. "Shut up," he told him, in a bashful Liverpudlian squeak.A drabble where Simon ruins his shirt and sends Henry out to the Land Rover to fetch a spare one. When he comes back, Si is half-undressed and Henry can't hold himself back.





	The Only Thing That Looks Good on Me is You

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a work of fiction involving real people written by myself - it is a completely made-up fantasy and is in no way intended to cause offence.

It was a damn good job they usually brought a few extra clothes with them when they were out filming. The continuity of the programme would be scuppered, yes, but Simon felt sure that his change of t-shirt would be explained on-screen. He had no doubt whatsoever that the production company would include his little mishap with the water bucket in the final edit. And there was he thinking that such calamities only happened in cartoons; one foot planted in a leaning vessel, a quarter full, flipping the load upwards and all over himself.

He'd sent Henry, who had just about managed to stop laughing by now, out to the Land Rover to fetch a spare shirt. So why did it therefore surprise the presenter so much to find Simon in a state of semi-undress when he re-entered the shed? Shocked he may have been, but it certainly wasn't an unpleasant thing for him to have clapped eyes on. Cole suddenly felt reluctant to hand over the clean garment. He placed it on a nearby, _relatively_ clean workbench - hanging it on a vice, using it as a coat-hook.

"I _say_. Hel- _lo_ Si," he beamed, like a Cheshire cat.

Feeling slightly timid, O'Brien retrieved the damp shirt and held it to his torso, covering his bare-chestedness. "Shut up," he told him, in a bashful Liverpudlian squeak.

"You know, I always wanted a bit more hair on my chest," Henry teased, slowly approaching him. "Can I have some of yours?" he asked, brazenly placing his hands on Si's chest and having a good grope, producing a nervous giggle.

"Stop it... People are gonna think we're up to something," Simon said, smiling.

" _Are_ we up to something?" the question was asked. And Simon definitely _hadn't_ stopped smiling.

"Just think," the younger man ran a tongue over his teeth, "If you took yours off, people really _would_ think we were up to something. _Wouldn't_ they?" His raised eyebrows were devilish.

Henry didn't hesitate; he removed himself from his sweater so quickly that his head almost came off along with it. Si's hands gently began to massage the exposed flesh, making the bearded man - for a second - tremble and quiver with thoughts of a rather inappropriate nature. But, sadly, such frivolities wouldn't last. " _Thank you,_ " Simon welcomed the long-sleeved top, snatching it away with a wicked grin, "I now have something _dry_ to wear."


End file.
